


in little sips

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [34]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Demonic Possession, Dominance, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rough Sex, Submission, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: Gearing up to face Martin Adjaye means a certain amount of subterfuge, the sort that Freddie thought he'd left behind in his confidence days. And Ephram's gearing up to something too: implanting himself with the Cinquefoil, an occult artifact that has a chance to hold back the demon Anaxis for good. Emotions are running high and Freddie, about to face his oldest tormentor and the possibility of his husband's demon wreaking havoc yet again, is asked for one more sacrifice.
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673





	in little sips

**Author's Note:**

> >   
> Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)  
> 

In the end, Freddie had eschewed Suky Toddry’s offer of private transportation to London (the less that woman knew, the better, to Freddie’s way of thinking), and had finessed his way into the use of a private jet himself - by way of Fei Fei Poppleworth; who was fond of both Freddie and Ephram, thanks to their rather accommodating approach to her art whilst in Greece, and to whom a ‘honeymoon’ in London sounded both sweetly sentimental, and entirely plausible.

And now, Fei Fei’s jet having touched down at Heathrow just after 9 pm, the two of them travelling under the new names and identities that had been invented especially for this particular occasion, Freddie and Ephram were sat in the back of The Goring Hotel’s courtesy car on the M4, heading for Belgravia and the promise of a late meal, a soft bed, and the looming spectre of Martin Adjaye, now hovering far too close for comfort. 

Five minutes, ten, fifteen and on, the car quiet but for the sound of their breathing and the passing traffic, Freddie held Ephram’s hand, the two of them sitting close, and threaded their fingers together, wishing they’d come to London for any other reason. Missing Ollie already, but grateful, down to the marrow of his bones and the filament of his wings, to have his husband beside him.

They checked in swiftly and easily upon arriving at the hotel - Freddie having booked the Royal Suite without thinking, only realising after he’d done it that without Ollie the extra bedroom was unnecessary. And once they’d been shown in, the scent of fresh flowers redolent and their scarlet-jacketed footman, soon to be off for the evening, offering to unpack for them, Freddie shook his head, and dismissed the young man with a tired smile, telling him they’d sort it themselves, and they would see him in the morning when he brought their breakfast. Relieved when he could finally close the door and they could be on their own again.

The fairy kicked off his shoes, shucked his jacket and threw it haphazardly over a nearby chair before crossing the room to kiss Ephram softly, caressing his witch’s cheek with one hand while the other loosened his own tie and unfastened his top button. “There’s robes and slippers lurking around here somewhere,” he said with a small smile, “…and chocolates too.”

His tie tossed into the same chair as his jacket, Freddie carried on unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. “Tomorrow, love,” he said, “-we’ll check into the Langham, too.” 

Freddie shot his husband a rueful sort of glance. “Do a bit of recon, yeah?”

“Right,” Ephram said, remembering that particular trick with the dual hotels from the last time Martin had been hunting Freddie. “Make sure we’s in at least two places at once.” Toeing off his shoes, Ephram padded over to the prettily packaged box of chocolates he’d spotted and tore it open, eating two at once as he headed for the bathroom next and emerged with the robes and slippers Freddie had mentioned.

“Sort of, yeah,” Freddie nodded with another tired smile as he continued to undress, “I’ve booked the room at the Langham under an entirely different pair of aliases - Dr. Malin Dahlstrøm and her husband, Øystein - so there’s nothing to connect us to it in any way, shape, or form. Just an executive room - nothing too flash - and I’ve specified the seventh floor or higher, so that’ll give us a bit of distance from Martin and Stellafa when we’re there.”

“We won’t sleep there, of course,” the fairy went on as Ephram disappeared into the loo, “- I mean, however weak Martin’s meant to be, I don’t intend to shut my eyes for any longer than it takes to blink in any space he happens to occupy - but it’ll be infinitely easier remain inconspicuous and manage glamours having a room of our own to retreat to.”

“Do I get to be the husband Oyster?” Ephram asked solemnly, not quite trying to get Freddie to laugh – the sword of Damocles was a bit too sharp for that – but at least trying to keep the mood a little less heavy. That might give them some leverage, in the grand scheme of things; Freddie’s fairy nature didn’t gel well with gloom and fear. His con man skills, however, were more apt to kick in, take over, when his mind was kept light and ticking over plans instead of worrying about their mutual fate.

Going over to his fairy, Ephram kissed Freddie’s ear and handed him one set, then undressed and got into his own robe. Tomorrow there’d be a very tense list of rigours for them to perform when it came to hunting Martin Adjaye down; trying to get some rest tonight was the sensible thing to do.

Besides which, there was the matter of the Cinquefoil. The trip had been long enough that Ephram had figured it was a good time to bring up his proposal regarding the artifact, and he’d entreated Freddie to at least just _consider_ it as a last resort should Adjaye prove, once more, to have the upper hand.

Freddie couldn’t help but smile a bit brighter in spite of himself at Ephram’s question. “You can be whichever one you like, love,” he said, “-but I _do_ think I have rather more experience in heels. Not to mention a Norwegian accent.” He paused to murmur his thanks as he accepted the robe that Ephram had brought him, slipping it on and leaning into the warmth of his husband’s lips when they found his ear. “Tomorrow morning," he said, "we’ll meet Polina, that witch of Iann’s, at Waterstones to collect the scent-dampening potion that I commissioned, and a little extra vervain, and then…” 

He trailed off. 

And then it would be time to start doing what they’d come here to do.

“How you holdin’ up?” Ephram asked, kissing the tip of Freddie’s ear one more time before going to sit on the bed, easing the ache of travel from his bones. “With Ollie being apart from you, I mean.”

Freddie watched with a soft fond smile as Ephram got into his own robe, his expression turning more troubled as his eyes landed on the brand on his darling’s hip that kept the demon penned inside, and Freddie closed his wrapped hand, unconsciously rubbing the linen over the matching brand on his own palm with his fingertips as Ephram kissed him one more time before settling on the bed.

“Hmm?” he said distractedly, his mind on the conversation they’d had on the plane, finally looking up and meeting Ephram’s eyes when his husband’s question eventually managed to get through. “Oh,” he said, giving his head a shake, “Sorry. I’m alright, sweetheart.”

Freddie came over to the bed himself and shooed his lanky witch over so that he could get comfortable beside him, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Go on, budge up,” he teased.

“Don’t ever tell ‘im I said this,” Ephram admitted as he scooted over, “but thank God for Cardero and all his shady connections when it comes to magical stuff.” This Polina could be anybody, really, but the fact that she came with a recommendation from Iann was strangely comforting. If only for the fact that Iann (apart from That One Time of slicing Freddie open, of course) wouldn’t do anything to hurt his fairy friend and business partner. “Y’know, I didn’t realize so much went into hiding from a vampire. Lucky I never had to do it before.”

“I’ll never breathe a word to him,” Freddie promised, his affection for both his husband and his friend evident in his voice, “-though he likely wouldn’t believe me anyway. He’d just assume I was spinning things in some misguided effort to entice the two of you to play nicely together.” The fairy smirked. “Which is obviously a pipe dream I gave up long ago.” And he only shrugged at Ephram’s comment about vampires, telling him, “I don’t imagine it’s quite the same for all species, darling. The fae just give off a very sweet sort of scent, from what I understand; individual and specific, but with the same sort of notes as sex and very ripe fruit…”

“We smell, for lack of a better word, very _edible_. And even morseo to those who’ve tasted us before.”

“Jesus,” Ephram breathed, shifting a little with an abashed laugh. “Now I get why they’re so anxious for fairy blood. I got half a mind to eat you my own self.” Now wasn’t the time, but in a way, Ephram felt a little glad that even on the eve of what could be the most harrowing thing they’d faced together, he still wanted Freddie so deeply, viscerally, love and erotic hunger never satiated.

(He very purposely did not think of the flip side to Freddie’s words; the picture of that handsome monstrous Martin Adjaye, feeding from young Freddie’s tender, debauched body. Because that, to Ephram’s ongoing shame, didn’t do much to quell the spur of desire.)

“I mean, I miss Ollie horribly already,” Freddie admitted after a minute or two, his voice quiet, “It’s worse than it normally would be to be apart because I’m under stress. But we can still talk if we concentrate. It just isn’t the same as having him close.”

The fairy was still for a moment, then sat up a bit straighter, repositioning himself so that he was facing his husband, and reaching to unfasten the belt of Ephram’s robe. Opening it so that he could see the brand.

And the green-silver, twinned witch-fairy magic that moved through it.

Leaning down, Freddie pressed his lips to the scarification, then straightened up again and looked Ephram in the eye. “Tell me again why you think this Cinquefoil madness is a good idea,” he said softly, “Because it frightens me to death to think about. I mean, you asked me to consider it, love, as a last resort - and I’m trying, but…” Freddie sighed. “…we’re _so_ closeto the Third Seal, sweetheart. Why do you even want to _entertain_ this sort of risk?”

Ephram nodded with a quiet, “I miss Ollie too. I’m so used to him being round, I keep looking for him everywhere.” But it seemed Freddie wasn’t going to pursue the subject of his beloved familiar, instead sitting up with something grim about his jawline to flick Ephram’s robe open over his hip. The brand riding on the crest of the bone there seethed with gold under the more harmonious mix of silver and green, and Ephram drew in a breath when Freddie’s lips brushed against the scar.

“Because the way I reckon it, the Cinquefoil is gonna be _part_ of the Third Seal,” he answered earnestly, taking Freddie’s hands and pressing them as if that would convince in his favour. “We’re ready for it now, emotionally, where we are in our life together. We just did two other symbolic seals, with living together and getting married, so I figure we’re primed for the Third physical seal to work.” Turning Freddie’s linen-wrapped hand palm-upwards, Ephram unwrapped it none too carefully and pressed it against the matching print on his hip, bucking up slightly against it as the magic sparked through them both.

“Tell me you can feel it,” he insisted, flickers of light tickling against the edges of their joined skin. “It’s ready for something. It’s changed since last time.” Meaning when Freddie had healed Ephram and gotten the mark on his palm, when it had been just blood and gold ley magic. Before Ephram had gotten an extra boost on his ability to handle Anaxis. Before he'd acquired the Cinquefoil, and the prospect of sinking that artifact into his flesh to act as the strongest control yet over the demon inside him had ever been a possibility.

Oddly enough, it was rather comforting to hear that Ephram missed Oliver too - but thinking too much on the little Chin only made Freddie regret his absence even more, wishing Ollie was close enough to provide his usual support and counsel, and he couldn’t bring himself to discuss him any further. Instead, he shifted his focus to the Cinquefoil, and the potential differences between a _meld_ and a _seal_.

A harness, and a cage.

So he listened without speaking as Ephram again explained his thinking, allowing his witch to unwrap his hand and press their mirror-image marks together, the surge of power that thrummed through them when they touched making the fairy draw a sudden deep breath between his lips.

“I can feel it, yeah,” Freddie murmured softly, looking up again into Ephram’s eyes, “And if you’re certain that this is right, love… _really_ certain… then that’s enough for me. I mean, it still bloody terrifies me - I can’t lose even the smallest part of you, sweetheart - but I trust you. I trust _us_.”

“I can’t lose part of me,” Ephram murmured, holding Freddie’s hand to the seal, holding Freddie’s blue gaze with his own. “You got all the parts of me that are important, honey. So long as you got me in your heart, I can’t ever be unwhole.” Ephram’s voice got more steel to it as he drew Freddie to lie down, tugging the sheets up over them. “But I’m sure as fuck gonna unravel Anaxis and everthing it thinks it is. Right down to the God damned bone.”

The certainty in Ephram’s voice when he promised, unshakable and resolute, that nothing about him could be lost because Freddie held him, safe and whole and protected, in his heart, was undeniable - and almost as soon as the words fell from his lips, Freddie found that he knew them to be true. Which didn’t mean that anything to come would necessarily be easy, or painless - where demons were concerned such things were impossible - but he knew, as though it had never been in doubt, that they would keep each other safe, and that they would be together.

What God had joined together would not be put asunder.

Freddie wondered, with the ghost of a smile, if Ephram would be proud of him for remembering that bit of the ceremony… And he nodded, leaning in to brush his lips across his husband’s, breathing, “Yeah,” and allowing himself to be draw down into bed, covered and held close, his grip on Ephram firm as he listened to the beating of his witch’s heart, and the fierce determination in his voice.

“I like it when you talk like that,” Freddie murmured. “When you _know_ what you’re capable of, and you recognise yourself as the man that you are…”

Freddie lifted his head to meet Ephram’s eyes again, his own bright with devotion. “I love you,” he said, “-and I believe in you. Now and always, yeah?”

For his part, the witch was quiet for a moment as they both felt the sigils pressed together, their magic joined and swirling through and throughout each other, drinking in the scent, the warmth and weight of his husband. There could be no losing him, Ephram knew, and vice versa; neither of them thought of a life without the other as being worth anything. 

Ephram’s declaration about Anaxis, Freddie seemed to accept wholesale and with no reservations. It was a good thing indeed that Ephram wasn’t able to lie very well and certainly not about important things, and Freddie’s praise combined with his own resolve made their magic swirl from their sigils – separated now – with vibrant silver and green.

“Go to sleep now, honey,” Ephram coaxed, giving Freddie a few small kisses. “I’m the man I am because of your love and your help, and you’re what I love most in this world, and tomorrow we’re gonna get started on dealing with both of our demons.”

-*-*-

Breakfast was inevitably brought by a different footman than the one they’d had the night before - something that had escaped Freddie when they’d arrived, due to his relative disquiet and distraction - and when the meal turned up, the fairy, who’d slept only in fits and starts all night, and had thus ordered everything staggeringly early, got up to collect it; throwing on a robe before returning with the tray to bed, and waking Ephram with a little caress to his cheek. 

“Wake up, darling,” he murmured, “Breakfast is served. And as it happens, we’ve got rather a lot to get on with this morning.”

Fortunately Ephram was accustomed to bounding out of bed on a moment’s notice, time difference notwithstanding; as soon as Freddie woke him and he recalled where they were, what task they were set to, Ephram sat up with a yawn and started investigating the breakfast tray. “You didn’t sleep too good, did you,” Ephram observed, digging into the requisite egg dish. Even tired from long days at the Stonefruit, Freddie always contrived to look fresh and crisp or at least artfully tousled. But right now he looked faintly worn, the stress of what was facing them taking a more obvious toll.

“You look beautiful.” Despite what Ephram was thinking, there was no way he wanted Freddie to feel anything less than exquisite. His man’s confidence was buoyed by his appearance, in true fairy style, and it was no hardship for Ephram to pour on sincere, heartfelt compliments. Either way, though, Freddie’d had a restless night and while there was no point trying to ignore that, there was also no point in dwelling on it. They both knew that there would be much more for them to put their brainpower towards in the next few … hell, the next few hours, much less if this took days. Ephram hoped it wouldn’t, though, even if that meant for better or worse. Freddie wasn’t built for prolonged misery, wasn’t the type who could weather the grind. His fairy nature would fracture, slowly but surely.

(Not that Ephram thought Freddie couldn’t handle hardship – his darling had been through horrible things from a young age – but Freddie’s coping mechanism there had been glamours, of a sort, to either convince himself that his woes were of his own doing or that they weren’t so bad. Glamours, even psychological ones, weren’t going to do anything against Martin Adjaye.)

Freddie shot Ephram an affectionate smirk as he reached for a piece of toast, spreading a bit of jam on it, and then settling back against the pillows. “You’re such a rubbish liar,” he teased, “I mean honestly, darling, you can’t follow ‘you haven’t slept’ with ‘you look beautiful’. Clearly, if I looked bloody beautiful, you wouldn’t be able to tell I’d lain awake half the night.” The fairy smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of his husband’s mouth. “But thank-you all the same.”

He settled back again with a slightly cheeky twist of his lips. “Unfortunately, I think I may have to settle for only being stunning this morning - though I’m sure a bit of time in front of the mirror will help set things right again…”

The sentiment behind the compliment had lifted him though, as Ephram had known it would, and Freddie finished his toast, taking a bit of bacon from his darling’s plate and popping it into his mouth as Ephram made his way to the loo; fixing himself a cup of tea to sip whilst his witch showered, his wheels turning as he considered their day. And when Ephram returned, golden and dripping, as he toweled off, asking, “Am I dressing any specific way, or is your glamouring gonna take care of all that?”, the fairy, who hadn’t yet moved from his place on the bed, nodded before lifting his cup again. “I’ll sort all that out with a glamour when the time comes, love, ” he said, “So just wear anything you like, yeah? Anything I’ve packed for you will suit. Today’s going to be a bit utilitarian for the most part, I think…”

Draining the last of his Earl Grey, Freddie set the cup on the nightstand and got up, shedding his robe to take his turn in the shower - but he paused at the bathroom door, turning back to Ephram with a smile. “Actually,” he said, “-on second thought - wear the white, sweetheart. And that shirt I like in the soft grey. With the blue coat.I love how you look in that,” he said, “Like your eyes are the only things that ever deserve to be called blue.”

And then he turned and headed into bathroom, running the shower hot enough to send billows of steam through the open door and out into the rest of the suite.

“The white it is, then,” Ephram said rather belatedly, and got dressed just close enough to the bathroom to be kissed by the blossoms of steam against his own still shower-warmed body. The yellow enameled Cinquefoil went into his pocket, again over the demon seal mark on his hip. It didn’t exactly feel _right_ there, but it felt … like a possibility.

Dressed as instructed, Ephram was about to go find Ollie for a chat before remembering the little Chin wasn’t with them. It was a nasty feeling. He could only imagine what poor Freddie and Ollie were going through, separated probably further than they ever had been. Martin Adjaye’s bill of things to be answered for kept getting longer.

“Darlin,” Ephram said, lingering at the bathroom door, “I’ll be carrying the Cinquefoil with me where we go. It ain’t something that witches or other magic-users can sense unless they got dealings with demons as well, so if anybody we meet cottons on to the fact that I got it, we’ll know they’s demon-bound. Or at least have some truck with demonkind.”

Freddie sagged a bit as he stood under the near blistering water, letting the heat attempt to soothe the tension he was carrying in his muscles, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and he had to level out the temperature. He scrubbed his hands over his face, missing Ollie (feeling his familiar’s absence like an ache in his bones, deep and constant) and dreading leaving the suite to face what lay out in the wicked world waiting for them. Wallowing for a moment in the worst of his worries.

Reaching out, the fairy leaned against the shower wall, head down as the water cascaded over his back and shoulders, over his wings, like a heavy rainfall, before taking a deep breath, holding it for a count of ten, and forcing himself to exhale all his strain and fear with it when he let it out again. Mind over matter, was what he told himself; just like he’d always done.

Push it down. Lock it away because it isn’t any bloody use.

This wouldn’t last, he knew; not anymore… but for now it would suffice, simply because it _had_ to. Freddie didn’t have the luxury of going to pieces now any more than he ever had.

More than that, he couldn’t afford to be anything other than _absolutely_ focused. Sharp, and thinking, thinking, thinking. He needed to see all the angles here - if he didn’t, they would be fucked straight from the jump. 

So the fairy squared his shoulders, took one more deep breath… and got bloody well on with things. Scrubbing, shampooing, conditioning, exfoliating… because looking tired _was not_ going to do. He wouldn’t give Martin the sodding satisfaction.

He was just about finished when he heard his husband’s voice calling to him from the vicinity of the bathroom door, and he gave himself one last rinse before turning off the water and running his fingers through his hair, stepping out to drip onto the floor as he reached for a towel to dry himself.

“Fucking hell…” he said, looking at Ephram as he toweled off, the thought of demons putting a wrinkle in his forehead as he nodded, “Well… that’s good to know, at any rate…” He tossed his towel aside, and walked over to where Ephram stood, pushing up on his toes and giving his witch a soft kiss and a smile. “I love you too much not to worry,” he said, “-but like I said last night, I know you’ve got things in hand.” And then he headed out into the suite proper to get dressed, glancing at the clock and muttering, “Shit… we’d better get going. Christ knows how shirty Polina will be if we’re late…”

Freddie managed to conduct his usual beauty routine at double the pace he normally would, and soon enough, they were in the chauffeured vehicle, ready to be glamoured twice over - first employing the faces they were using at The Goring, and then a fresh pair for when they they emerged from the car at Waterstones. “It’s okay if you’re a lil bit on unsteady ground when it comes to this Cinquefoil thing.” Ephram pitched his voice low in the car, even though the partition was up. His fingers stroked the back of Freddie’s hand, resting on the seat between them. “I can’t tell you all the hows and wherefores of how it’ll play out, if it comes down to it, but I know I’ll be able to wrangle it into control. With the Cinquefoil doing the hard work when it comes to keeping Anaxis from taking control of me, I can direct the demon's power. I know I can. This might just be the most important magic I ever done in my life, baby.” Ephram dotted a couple of lingering kisses against Freddie’s hairline, never mind the fact that his darling’s face was that of a stranger. “Ain’t no way I’m gonna go weak when the moment comes.”

_If it comes at all._

There was still the possibility that he wouldn’t need to use the Cinquefoil at all, but Ephram felt deep inside that it was an extremely _slim_ possibility. Nothing to do with Martin Adjaye struck him as ever being resolved with any amount of ease or escaping unscathed. But it was better than waiting for the vampire to make his move; better than having Freddie living under threat of Adjaye reappearing in his life ready to bite the soft, beating throat out of it once more.

Freddie nodded as Ephram reassured him that it was alright to feel apprehensive, letting out a soft breath and smiling a bit ruefully. “Thank-you for saying that, sweetheart,” the fairy murmured, watching the gentle stroke of his husband’s long fingers, the warmth of them soothing and sweet against his own skin. “And I know you won’t,” he agreed softly as he leaned into the loving press of lips at his hairline, allowing his eyes to close for a moment so that he could focus on the scent of Ephram’s cologne. Of his skin. “Of all the things you’ve ever been, my love, weak has never been one of them.”

Freddie only wished that Martin’s strength, despite its differing breed, wasn’t so much a fact in its own right.

-*-*-

\- And then in seemingly very short measure, they were headed into Waterstones; Freddie immediately leading Ephram up to the fourth floor, and to The Russian Bookshop specifically.

“She’ll come to us,” Freddie said, slipping his hand into his husband’s as they began to ‘browse’. “She wears an ointment on her eyes that lets her see through glamours, so she’ll know me when she sees me…” Freddie glanced up at Ephram and smiled. “Be prepared for her to take a few liberties when you meet her though, love. I mean, she looks old enough to be your Gran’s Gran - but she still knows what she likes.”

Ephram peered at the spines of the volumes on the shelves, fascinated by the Cyrillic lettering and nodding almost absently when Freddie explained Polina’s ability to see through glamours. “That ointment made with sallet oil and flower waters,” he said. “Edith told me bout that once, not that she ever tried it but she had a sister who was … pixilated, who used to use it and swore she saw fairies.” 

Freddie couldn’t help but smile at Ephram’s immediate knowledge of exactly the sort of tincture the old witch employed, asking, “Is that what’s in it? I don’t know the first thing about it.” And his smile widened, a teasing twinkle in his borrowed eyes. “Are you sure she was pixilated through?” he went on, “I mean, seeing fairies sounds like a perfectly common practice to me… _You_ see one every day of your life.”

He lifted their hands when Ephram squeezed his, dropping a kiss on his darling’s knuckles. “I’m sure Polina will be here any minute,” he said, taking a moment to glance around for the mad Russian before turning back to Ephram again. “So what did Grandmum Edith think of fairies, love?” he asked, “Did she ever say?”

“People use to call _me_ pixilated too, when I was a tadpole,” Ephram said gravely, although the warmth in his voice belied his solemn declaration. “So I reckon being able to see fairies is in my blood, no rose-and-marigold ointment needed.” He snuggled against Freddie for a minute, adding, “–and lucky for that, because it would be a pain to need the stuff to see my sweet fairy’s pretty face.” Ephram ran one hand over Freddie’s back, feeling the folded-up dragonfly wings there with a slow indrawn breath of pleasure.

“Edith, well -- she would shake her head and tut when she talked bout her sister and the ointment, but she never outright said she didn’t believe in fairies, come to think of it.” Ephram lifted his eyebrows at the recollection. “Huh. Maybe she knew more’n I realized about the supernatural world. I wouldn’t be surprised, considering she grew up when superstitions and tall tales were taken as fact.”

He didn’t get much further on the subject, though, because Freddie suddenly made the little Ollie-like yip (Ephram would never tell him that) he did when he was startled, and a babushka-wearing woman who looked about a hundred years old appeared from behind him, cackling lasciviously. The sharp pinch she'd delivered to Freddie's bottom was what made him exclaim, spinning round to see Polina’s dark crinkled eyes and nearly toothless smile, the old woman apparently, in spite of her age and her delightful grandmotherly roundness, as stealthy as a cat when the mood struck her. 

Still dressed as though she’d just left a Soviet breadline under Perestroika, the elderly witch smirked, greeting Freddie in Russian before reaching up to pat his cheek. “Still so pretty,” she said in heavily accented English, and then she shifted her attention to Ephram. “Ho ho… you are a big boy,” she said approvingly, then she poked Freddie teasingly in the stomach, wicked mischief in her eyes, “ _Greedy thing._ ”

“Now,” she said, clapping her hands together, all business, “Are you as good a kisser as this one?” She nodded in the fairy’s direction. “Iann Cardero says you make love to chickens.” 

“I, uh,” Ephram said, taken aback even though Freddie had warned him about the old grandma’s proclivities. He scrambled to maintain his composure and said through his teeth, “Cardero said that, huh? Well, that’s the jealousy talkin’, Miss Polina, ma’am. Because I keep my husband real happy, if that gives you any idea of where I need to go for lovemaking.”

Polina clapped her hands together twice with an approving hoot, telling Freddie, “Your big boy will give me a kiss, I will give you information. Come. I know you don’t have time to waste.” With her eyes as small and dark as currants in an oversized bun, it was hard to discern whether or not Polina had any opinions about Freddie’s predicament – but if she did, Ephram hoped they were sympathetic ones. “Sounds fine to me,” he ventured, stroking Freddie’s back encouragingly.

Freddie’s wings, folded up tight under his clothes, were still thrumming slightly from Ephram’s touch, his heart warmed by the notion that perhaps Ephram’s beloved Edith had been aware of his kind, even in some limited superstitious fashion; thinking, not for the first time, of how much he would have liked to meet the old woman; when the old woman _of the moment_ turned up to molest him - and, in spite of his start, he grinned back at her. Both out of gratitude for the service she was providing, and a genuine liking for the filthy old thing. 

A liking that only grew when she professed her approval of Ephram as well; as, in Freddie’s opinion, anyone who enjoyed his husband was undoubtedly a possessor of good taste.

Ephram gave a game retort at Iann’s expense, offering a delightful bit of winking braggadocio - which Freddie confirmed with a lascivious smile and nod, giving his husband a cuddle and playful little squeeze of his arse. And when Polina chortled her gleeful approbation, adding a kiss from Ephram in exchange for some information to the original terms of their transaction; chivvying them on to wherever she thought was a more appropriate place for this exchange; Freddie let Ephram answer for them, the reality of their situation once again pressing on him. He just nodded again as Ephram stroked his back and wings, taking his husband’s hand as Polina bustled off, the elderly woman leading them one more floor up to the 5th View restaurant.

She trundled past the lounge area when they exited the lift, single-mindedly heading past the bar to a table that made the most of the south-east view of the rooftops of Victoria, Westminster and St James’s, the Battersea Power Station development visible in the far distance, though the suddenly grey sky and accompanying drizzle were doing their best to be discouraging. 

Early as it was on a weekday morning, all the other tables were empty, save for one in the far corner which was ostensibly having a business meeting of its own. And once they’d been served - tea and coffee, scones with jam and clotted cream - and their waiter had drifted off into invisibility once more, Polina muttered what Freddie supposed was an incantation of some sort, and pulled her enormous bag into her voluminous lap, immediately extracting a collection of vials and setting them on the table. 

“Vervain,” she said in her heavily accented English, nudging two little bottles at Ephram, “A double dose for you, eh?” before looking to Freddie, a shrewd sort of gleam in her little black-currant eyes. “But not for you, pretty. You think you may need to use your blood, da? In case of emergency.” It was a question that wasn’t a question at all, so Freddie didn’t feel any need to answer it.

“For you,” the old witch went on, “-I have what you asked for.” She reached across the table to press yet another little bottle into Freddie’s hand. “He will not be able to smell you unless you are very close.”

Her use of ‘he’ took Freddie a bit aback, unsure exactly how much she knew, given that Iann didn’t normally divulge much in the way of information to his shadier business contacts - but, remembering her promise of information in exchange for a kiss, the fairy murmured his thanks, and passed over the agreed-upon four hundred quid. 

Glancing up at Ephram and holding his darling’s eyes for a moment, Freddie gave him a small smile, threading their fingers together, before turning back to Polina, willing himself to keep focused on the practical. “Alright,” he said, a fondly knowing sort of glint in his eyes, “-so seeing as I remember rather well the _last_ little bonus deal you made with Iann, you naughty girl, let’s have the information first, yeah?”

“And _then_ you can have a taste of my husband.” 

Ephram was very glad that they had the rather more mundane business of sitting down at the table and ordering tea and scones before getting down to brass tacks, because it gave him a momentary chance to take in the scenery laid out before him. Freddie had said many times that London wasn’t really the heart of him, that there were other places in the world that had shaped him more, but from what Ephram had experienced of the city he wasn’t too sure of that. It wasn’t that he thought his husband was consciously lying; more that Freddie was … inherently loathe to give even more of himself away to the city where he’d been born and abandoned twice, three times over. Seeing the city and feeling its energy, Ephram thought he could feel the London in Freddie – buried deep deep down, maybe, but there all the same.

The muttering spell that Polina cast to, Ephram supposed, divert curious eyes from their goings-on caught his attention back from his rumination, and he curved one big hand around the two small vials that were pushed in his direction. “Okay,” Ephram said with a nod, watching and listening as Polina very pointedly didn’t give Freddie any of the vampire repellent. “There won’t be that sorter emergency,” he said, quietly but brooking no alternative. 

Like hell Ephram was going to let Martin Adjaye taste another drop of Freddie’s blood.

Polina made a rolling, clucking sort of noise with an accompanying hand motion. “It’s not wise to shut the door on ways out,” she wagged her finger. “You might need them more than you expect. And your pretty pretty already knows that might be the price.”

“Sorry to contradict you, ma’am, but ain’t gonna happen.” Ephram’s Southern politeness had nothing compared to his inherent bullishness when it came to something he was dead set about, and Polina, perhaps realizing this, gave a shrug and began to tuck into her scone. “Remember,” she said with a faint warning tone in her voice, thick and jammy, “this information was asked for. And it’s the sort that must be acted on.”

“Good scone,” the old witch muttered to herself before looking up again, clearly getting to the point in her own good time. “So what makes you so certain, hm?” she challenged; crumbs dropping from Polina’s smacking lips as she spoke, her dark knowing eyes fixed on Ephram’s. “You have put your foot down, so this means that this man, this vampire, who so many fear, who claims to have made _time_ bend to his will, is simply going to concede?”

“You are big, John Wayne,” she scoffed, with a vaguely conciliatory but ultimately dismissive expression, “-but he is bigger.”

She paused to slather her scone with more cream and jam - the wrong way round, Freddie thought to himself - then leaned back in her chair, narrowing her already tiny eyes in curious appraisal as she gazed at the witch across from her. “But still you are certain,” she said, “- like a mule. A big American mule. And I want to know why. Adjaye’s woman - the mad witch - the reborn devil who serves him, has made their presence known here. _Felt_ here. She will pick her teeth with your pretty’s wings if she has a mind to…”

Polina reached out a plump liver-spotted hand, her skin thin and papery, and beckoned Ephram to take it, to touch her so that she could read him. “Stubbornness is not power, boy. You tell me who you think you are." She glanced at Freddie, and then back to Ephram again with a smirk. “Tell me who _he_ thinks you are.”

“I won’t waste my breath otherwise, kisses or not.” 

“He thinks I’m his husband who loves him and swore not to let Adjaye have him, not one piece of him, never again.” Ephram didn’t give his hand to Polina right away. He had no idea if the old woman would be able to discern the demon living inside him just through touch, but even if she couldn’t he wanted a moment to compose himself. It had been a while since Ephram had had to explain Anaxis to anybody outside of Soapberry.

And while Polina was witchkind, that still didn’t make it any easier.

Leaning in closer as the old woman harrumphed skeptically, licking cream from her fingertips, Ephram said evenly, “Who I am is a man who’s survived poverty and prison and beatings and rape, who’s done all that even though I met the devil when I was only a little boy.” He took Polina’s hand then, feeling the wrinkles and warmth of it, and held it firmly as he felt magic start to swirl between them.

“I’m a man with a demon inside him, Polina. Adjaye and Stellafa might very well be devils themselves, but I’m a witch who’s been able to keep that demon contained for twenty years.” His gaze was intent on hers as Polina slowed her chewing, dark eyes gone even darker, if possible. “And I’m planning on letting that demon face Adjaye.”

As Ephram spoke, Freddie squeezed his husband’s hand tighter, stroking him gently with his thumb, knowing that his love was something Ephram had no doubt in, but wanting to tangibly, physically, remind him of it all the same. Wanting to remind him that he saw none of what Ephram had battled his way through as anything less than incredible, and that the victory of surviving it all, to become the man that he was, was never anything less than hard won; a testament to the strength of Ephram’s heart. 

And the fact that Ephram had given that heart to _him_ , that he thought Freddie deserving of it, and was willing to use all that strength to stand between the fairy and the monsters of his past - both internal and external - would always be nothing short of miraculous to Freddie’s mind.

Which was why he was seriously debating calling an end to this conversation, information or not. 

Who _was_ this old biddy to demand that Ephram explain himself? What made her think she had the bloody right?

Because whatever information she had, wherever she had acquired it, someone else would know it too, and Freddie had contacts of his own he could employ. Polina was far from the only show in town - and the fairy had had enough. She’d been paid in full, and it was time to go.

But as he was pushing back his chair, Ephram took the hand that wasn’t currently held fast in Freddie’s slightly smaller one, and he gave it to the rotund little Russian - a strong pulsing flow of magic suddenly passing between all three of them, causing Freddie to stop where he was.

Polina and Ephram continued to lock eyes across the table - the old witch inscrutable and the young one intense - and when Ephram said, very pointedly, that he intended to unleash Anaxis on Martin, Freddie’s jaw clenched, and a momentary flash of guilty sorrow showed in his eyes. 

He couldn’t help it. A part of him had still clung to the idea that Anaxis was meant to be a _contingency_ plan. A Hail Mary. An atomic bomb that he hoped they might never have to detonate, as it would subject his darling to untold fallout. 

That Freddie trusted Ephram implicitly, that he believed absolutely in his husband when he said that - with the Cinquefoil - he would be able to succeed in what he meant to do, was a fact. Freddie only wished that Ephram didn’t _have_ to do it; afraid of what it might put him through, of the pound of flesh that the act would demand in the moment.

His sweetheart had suffered enough in his life, and the fairy was sickened that he should be the cause of even more. However fleeting.

Please, God, let it be fleeting.

Polina extracted her hand from Ephram’s grasp, giving it a shake as if to rid it of pins and needles. “Your pretty must be frightened if he puts his trust in a demon,” she said, a certain slyness to her voice. Ephram didn’t take the bait, though. He drank his cup of tea and said, “It ain’t the demon he trusts. It’s _me_.”

When Polina pulled her hand back, she took another bite of her scone, crumbs snowing down the front of her dress and the cardigan she wore over it, buttoned by a single straining button; smirking again as she looked once more between Freddie and Ephram - though her eyes had softened slightly, even as the knowing look had grown sharper. “Do you know the name Baba Yaga, boy?” she asked Ephram, seemingly apropos of nothing, before turning to Freddie to query the same. “Do you, pretty? She was my mother’s mother’s mother, and so there is very little that I fear. Very little the women of my family have _ever_ feared…” Polina grinned, once again showing off her mostly toothless gums. “We are born crazy old ladies.”

“I know of Baba Yaga, yes ma’am.” Ephram re-clasped Freddie’s hand in his, loathe to let go after the feeling of that magic passing through all three of them, its circumference shrinking back to just they two. The way it was supposed to be, the unexplainable merging of witch and fairy magic that bound them to each other as surely as the rings on their fingers and the vows they’d made. He pleated their fingers together over and over, continuing, “I was brought up to respect the knowledge of women like her and yourself, who’ve learned wisdom from life.”

Ephram didn’t bring up his great-grandmother Edith, but his love and regard for his elderly relative coloured his words. Polina eyed him shrewdly, then nodded and brushed a shower of crumbs off her mountainous bosom and onto the table.

“You,” she went on, gesturing at Ephram, her eyes still smiling, “-are not fearless - but all the same, I was wrong, eh? For you, big cowboy, stubbornness is very powerful indeed.” And then, cackling for a moment to herself, she said no more on the subject. Instead, she simply gave Freddie a slightly disconcerting wink and clapped her hands together again, the look in her little black eyes decidedly more lascivious that it had been a moment before. “Now,” she said, “-information, and my payment for it.”

The little old witch gave an overlong dramatic pause, milking her moment, then said, “The woman, yes? She was part of a coven before she was turned. And while she is no longer their sister, she is not without their friendship. Two of their number go with her everywhere, a man and a woman. But whether they are thralls, or simply sentimental fools, that you will have to find out for yourselves.”

Polina beckoned Ephram over filthily with one crooked finger. “I will take my kiss now.”

Her information, now that it had been delivered, was troubling. They’d been prepared for Stellafa to be a formidable obstacle in their goal to eliminate the Adjaye problem, as devoted to her master as she was, but the idea of two witches attending her – presumably with more of their sanity about them than Stellafa had – changed the situation to a considerable degree.

Still, Ephram did his best to remain calm, nodding when Polina claimed her payment. He leaned over, putting one big hand gently along the old lady’s rounded jaw as he kissed her. Not, as Freddie had, with the easy sensuality his husband could summon as naturally as breathing, but with his own brand of focused intensity. Polina didn’t seem displeased.

In fact she grabbed Ephram’s elbow, giving his arm a good pinch before ending the kiss and leaving Ephram feeling decidedly like he’d just made out with Yoda. She’d tasted, oddly, of caraway and not the jam they’d been eating – not unpleasant, but an experience that Ephram had never expected to have. Hardly too high a price for the elderly witch’s information.

And without much else (although for a moment Polina gave a considering look at Freddie as though she was about the ask the same price of him), she creakily stood from the table, attended by another sprinkling of crumbs. “I hope,” Polina said without overmuch sentiment, “I see you again, pretty pretty. You and your big cowboy.” And then she was off, pausing only to leer at one of the waiters.

Taking a breath, Ephram drank down another cup of tea before pulling Freddie’s chair closer and Freddie with it. “Shit,” he said quietly but fervently. “Two more witches, what the fuck. I didn’t think Stellafa would still have friends from her coven, not with how she’s gone nuts and pledged to serve a vampire.” He lifted Freddie’s hand to his mouth, kissing his fairy’s warm knuckles and then his fingertips. “But that ain’t gonna put too much of a wrench in our plans, baby. The more I think on it, the more I know I can use the Cinquefoil to get us through this. I’m sure of it.”

The more Ephram said it, the more convinced he was that he’d be able to keep Anaxis in check. With his and Freddie’s shared magic, he’d already felt a reduction in the nightmares and the inner voices, the raking claws of Anaxis’ presence embedded inside him. 

To keep Freddie safe, there wasn’t anything that Ephram wasn’t prepared to do.

When Polina had gone - Freddie glad to see the back of her, this experience decidedly less enjoyable than their first meeting - the fairy watched as his husband poured and drank another cup of tea, before pushing his own still mostly-full cup away; unable suddenly to keep the ache of Oliver’s absence at bay, and wishing his familiar was there with them.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he reached out mentally, magically, for the little Chin, only _just_ able to feel him reaching back when his chair begin to move. _“I miss you, mate,”_ the fairy murmured internally, knowing that Ollie could hear him, _“We both miss you. We’re alright though; I’ll be in touch soon, yeah?”_ And then he let Oliver go again, turning to face his husband and opening his eyes, a silver sheen of fairy dust quickly melting into his usual blue-grey.

“I didn’t think she would either,” he sighed, though his lips still quirked into a small loving smile as Ephram lifted his hand and began kissing it gently, “-but I suppose we probably should have. I mean, covens are like family, aren’t they? _Literally_ family, in some cases - and it wasn’t like Stellafa became a vampire willingly; so maybe we were all a bit naive to assume they would’ve turned their backs.”

“You’re right,” Ephram agreed with a frustrated sigh at their short-sightedness – especially on his side, considering he _was_ a witch, a covenless one notwithstanding. “Reckon it’s more luck than otherwise that there’s _only_ two of em playin’ backup for Stellafa.” It still wasn’t a great prospect, but certainly better than the now vampiric Stellafa having the full weight of her coven behind her.

Ephram’s lips were warm and soft against his fingertips, the spun-gold bristles of his moustache and beard tickling lightly, and the fairy took a deep breath when his darling mentioned the Cinquefoil again, and his certainty that he could wield both it, and Anaxis, to their benefit, nodding his head in support. “I know, love,” he murmured, smiling softly again, “My white knight, aren’t you?” 

Freddie was quiet for a long moment before going on. “I’d never be able to face this without you, sweetheart,” he said quietly, “You know that, yeah? I’ve run from things my entire life, and I’d never have had the courage to do anything else if I hadn’t found you.” Freddie looked down at their hands, at the rings they wore, then raised his eyes to Ephram’s again. “Loving you has been the making of me, Ephram, and I’m so glad that you’re here with me now.”

Ephram gave a crooked smile when Freddie called him his white knight, squeezing his husband’s hand a little tighter. Time was, Ephram would have instinctively balked at such a declaration, protesting that he wasn’t worthy of the title; but now, it settled calmly over his shoulders, accepted as the truth as Freddie saw it. Contradicting his fairy’s view of him, no matter how glowing the opinion, was a habit that Ephram had been sweetly broken of.

Freddie was quiet for a while, and Ephram was about to ask if something was wrong when his husband started talking again, about having run from terrible things his whole life. How it was his love with Ephram that had put steel in his spine to face Adjaye this time, how that same love had made him a man able to do this now. And again, Ephram accepted this without trying to tell Freddie that the fairy would have gotten to this point regardless, because … well, that wasn’t true, was it? Ephram himself had become a better man, a more confident and less vice-ridden one due to Freddie’s care and influence; it wasn’t inconceivable that things worked the other way round too.

Having Freddie had taught Ephram that he didn’t need to dwell on his failings. And maybe that he didn’t have the mortal failings that he’d assigned himself. If he’d done the same for Freddie, that was nothing to disavow.

“I'm glad I could be here. Helping you, whatever way I can. For us." Just to make it clear that this was no sacrifice on Ephram's part; that whatever they faced, they faced together. "We need to go back to the hotel,” Ephram decided. “It’s time for us to come up with a plan. We’re gonna have to do this soon as we can.” He pressed Freddie’s hand to his forehead, between his eyebrows. “Tomorrow.” 

Freddie nodded in agreement - time was of the essence, and they needed to set things in motion - and the fairy scratched his fingers gently through his husband’s hair where his palm was pressed to Ephram’s forehead. “You’re right, love,” he said, “-let’s get back to the hotel and regroup a bit. We need to work out where to go from here and how exactly we intend to get there.”

Freddie cupped Ephram’s cheek affectionately for a moment, then let him go again. “So shall I call the car, or do you want to take the Tube back? I know you’ve never been to London before, so if you fancy a bit of a walk, sweetheart, I don’t mind. A bit of air might do us good.” The fairy glanced back over his shoulder out the window at the sky. “I mean, it’s pissing down out there, but an umbrella’s only a glamour away…”

“No,” Ephram shook his head. “I ain’t rightly in the mood to take in any sights or air.” Normally he’d love to, but he needed time to focus on Freddie and the fight ahead of them. “Call the car.”

—*—*—

Freddie did as Ephram told him and summoned the car to fetch them back to the Goring, feeling Oliver’s absence like a weight on his shoulders when they returned to their suite and were greeted by nothing but silence. It felt wrong getting back to their hotel room and feeling it empty, without the presence of the little Chin familiar greeting them or snuffling a scolding or both. Ephram shut the door behind them and wrapped Freddie in an embrace he’d been wanting to give since they’d sat down with Polina, kissing his fairy’s smooth soft brown hair and inhaling his scent deeply. Glancing up at Ephram, Freddie knew that it was off-putting for his husband, too; that it felt unnatural not to have the little Chin there with them - but before the fairy could sink into the feeling, even for a moment, he found himself wrapped up his darling’s arms and held fast; and he returned the embrace with a grateful slightly shuddering sigh, sinking into Ephram instead.

“The best chance we have of findin’ these witches and Stellafa,” Ephram said, fingers digging into Freddie’s back unconsciously, “is for me to use Anaxis. I’m gonna do the Cinquefoil tonight.” The words tasted ashen on his tongue, and Ephram followed them up with a low, almost guttural demand: “I want you. Before I do it, I want you.”

Freddie allowed himself to listen again to the determined steady beat of his husband’s heart, his eyes drifting closed when he felt Ephram’s lips brush against his head, and he only opened them again when Ephram began to speak. Unable to stop himself from tensing in his witch’s arms even as Ephram held him tighter, long fingers digging in hard enough to bruise; wanting to shake his head and tell Ephram no. Not yet. 

_Not yet. Please._

But instead, Freddie took a deep breath and shifted back just far enough to look the man he loved in the eye, his hands coming round to Ephram’s chest, fists clutching his shirt and jacket with nearly white knuckles - as though the fairy could spare his husband the worst of whatever the Cinquefoil and Anaxis would bring, if he only held on tightly enough.

“If you think it has to be tonight, then it has to be tonight, love,” Freddie said softly; the fear in his voice undeniable, but his faith in Ephram absolute, his eyes pained but clear, as he held his witch’s gaze. “So if you want me, then you’d better take me. Because I’m _yours_ , Ephram. All of me. Here and now and forever. Just yours.”

Still gripping Ephram as though their lives depended on the clench of his fists, Freddie tugged his husband down into a kiss. “I love you more than anything in this world, sweetheart,” he mumbled into Ephram’s mouth, “So take what you want. However you want.”

“…there isn’t anything I wouldn’t give you, and you know it…”

Not for the first time, Ephram wondered if the magic that the two of them shared, witch and fairy, allowed Freddie to inherently understand what it was Ephram needed without him articulating it. Even subconsciously.

Because as soon as Freddie said those words – _however you want_ – a sharp thirst hit the back of Ephram’s throat, dark and possessive. Almost terrible in its mindless intensity.

 _Well,_ Ephram thought wryly amidst the sudden rush of animal hunger. _Freddie *does* have a type, after all._

Gathering Freddie close again, Ephram pressed his mouth to his husband’s temple, his voice gravelly and hoarse. “–I need … I _want_ … to hurt you, baby. I need you to let me.”

It would always sting a little to know that Ephram had those sorts of urges; that the thought of the fairy’s pain ignited a dark and fierce sort of lust in the more feral part of his darling’s psyche - but at the same time, Freddie knew that it was far from that simple.

After all, Ephram’s first real experience of sex between men - those four long years in Ashland prison starting at only seventeen - had been brutal, agonising, and exploitative. It had been rape and violation presented as security and benevolence. His poor sweetheart had been stripped of his dignity, his humanity, at such an early age that those horrible contradictions had begun to coalesce - until he could no longer untangle one from the other, creating a destructive cycle of want and shame once he was out in the free world again.

And Freddie, though his own early experiences had been fraught with a different sort abuse and exploitation as he sold his body, understood all too well that some impressions were lasting; that they were impossible to ever really be free of.

Ephram wanted to hurt him now, yes - but his husband wasn’t a sadist. Freddie knew that what Ephram wanted now was what he’d explained to him the night he’d first admitted to his fantasies; he wanted _all_ of Freddie. Wanted everything he was, every thought and feeling he’d ever had - good and bad. Ephram wanted to touch it all. To taste it, and smell it, and _consume_ it. He wanted every part of his fairy, as completely as he could experience it before they stepped into the unknown together.

Ephram wanted Freddie’s pleasure, and pain; his joy, and fear - and everything in between.

Because he loved him so deeply and fiercely.

Because they loved _each other_ that way.

Ephram moved Freddie over to the bed, urging him down firmly onto his back and starting to undress him. “Stop me if it’s too much,” he said, catching Freddie’s gaze but not waiting for a response. Ephram had never made any secret of his more savage urges; but he’d confined them comfortably to the realm of fantasy, more than satisfied with the variety in his and Freddie’s love life, never pushing Freddie farther than his fairy could handle. Right up to the precipice, a few times, but not over.

This time, Ephram didn’t care if he threw them both off the edge.

And that was why, in spite of his fear - his fear of pain, never of Ephram - Freddie nodded his head, murmuring, “Do what you need to, sweetheart. I trust you,” as he allowed his witch to continue to undress him with rough insistent hands. To lay him out naked on the bed, heart beating like a rabbit’s in anticipation of the hurt that he knew was coming; the collar he never took off slipping free of the glamour he was no longer calm enough to maintain.

The witch kept on divesting Freddie of his clothes, uncaring of popping buttons and shearing fabric, until he had his husband laid bare against the sheets. “Just a little bit, honey,” Ephram promised, spreading his hands over Freddie’s chest, fanning his fingers along the rapid rise and fall of Freddie’s ribs. “Don’t be scared. I love you so much, Freddie, I….” 

But when Ephram splayed his big hands over his ribs, telling him how much he loved him and not to be scared, Freddie felt something ease inside of him; felt some of his anxious tension quiet; and he looked up into Ephram’s eyes, catching one hand and squeezing it. “I know you do,” he said softly, “I love you too.”

“And I’m not scared of you,” the fairy said truthfully, “I never have been, and I never will be.”

That he was horribly frightened of pain, Ephram already knew - but Freddie needed to draw that line all the same. To remind his husband that his trust was absolute and unshakable.

Sinking to his knees at the foot of the bed, Ephram opened his trousers before he took hold of Freddie’s legs and hauled his hips further down to spread his fairy’s thighs apart. “I need to feel it,” Ephram groaned, pressing his face to Freddie’s cock. “I need _you_ to feel it. I’m gonna fuck you raw, baby, you need to just take it. I know you can. Please, you have to–” He licked his lips, getting his hands under Freddie’s thighs to push them up.

Ephram got on his knees then, dragging Freddie by the hips to the foot of the bed and spreading his legs wide, a desperate intensity rolling off him in waves as he rubbed his face over the fairy’s cock and balls; muttering his wants and needs, his warnings of what was coming, as Freddie’s prick filled, spurred on by hot breath and the gentle scrape of facial hair.

“I can take it, sweetheart,” Freddie promised, his voice wobbling only once, fingers tangling in Ephram’s hair, “I’ll be alright…”

And he moaned raggedly, his heart still thumping, when Ephram pushed his legs up high a moment later; holding him, open and exposed, as he lapped at him far too briefly, the hot spatter of spit that followed the only lubricant that Freddie would be getting.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Ephram said, panting, rubbing his bristly face against the inside of Freddie’s thigh. His own cock was risen up dark and thick, aching to be buried inside his husband, and Ephram thrust its length along the crack of Freddie’s displayed ass. “I’m gonna fuck you out hard, baby, tell me if it gets too much, tell me if you don’t want it….”

His cock was straining, but Ephram held on for a moment. One last moment for Freddie to say no.

His best efforts to stay quiet falling short, the fairy let out a little whimper when Ephram pulled him open wide with his thumbs, wincing and biting his lip, his hips rocking when he felt his husband spit again - this time inside him. And when his witch got to his feet, cock thick and hard as he rutted Freddie’s backside, giving him one more chance to refuse, Freddie shook his head resolutely. “I want it,” he said, “I want _you_.”

Ephram might not have been able to articulate what he was feeling, why he needed to see his most beloved person in the world in pain inflicted at his hands, but he would have wept with relief to know that Freddie was able to. That Freddie, in all his seeming infinitely discerning eye and heart when it came to his husband, knew that Ephram wanted too much, he wanted everything. Everything that Freddie had it in him to give, and perhaps even more than that. If Freddie couldn’t give it, Ephram would take it, and he didn’t know if he could even bring himself to feel guilty about it.

Right now, guilt was the last thing on his mind. Not when the scent of Freddie was fogging the air around him, making his mind cottony with desire, and when Freddie acquiesced – _i want it, i want you_ – Ephram felt a spear of searing lust shoot up inside him. 

He stepped back from Freddie’s body, leaving his fairy splayed and wanton on the bed, and pulled the belt from his trousers, cock risen purple and hefty from his groin. “My beautiful boy,” Ephram murmured, voice almost shaking with want as he wrapped the buckle end around his fist. “My baby, my pretty little Freddie.”

Then his voice _did_ shake, from the force of his leather belt striking Freddie’s displayed ass and thighs. It left a mark almost immediately, blood flushing into the stripe that Ephram had lain and turning Freddie’s tender skin a hot, delicious pink. The same colour, nearly, as his soft inviting insides. Ephram gave a pained moan, instructing, “–don’t close your legs,” as he continued to rain blows down against Freddie’s exposed cunt, his balls, his cock. The pale insides of his thighs. Even his sweet vulnerable lower belly, until his lover’s skin was a riot of stripes, the flesh so fevered that Ephram swore he could smell the rawness when he moved up close again and nestled his leaking cock between Freddie’s legs.

When Freddie saw the belt, he couldn’t help the way he sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly having to reevaluate the level of pain that was coming. And he gritted his teeth, doing his best to keep his breathing slow and steady, and to focus on the sound of Epham’s voice; on the sincerity he could hear in every word, the tenderness and softness at the centre of that raging lust that belonged to him alone.

But all the same, his husband was a physically powerful man, and all the mental preparation in the world couldn’t have overcome the way it felt when the leather made contact. It hit Freddie’s skin with a meaty, obscene sort of crack, and the fairy choked out a wet-sounding cry before swallowing hard and trying to brace for the next. It took all of his willpower to do as he was told and keep his legs spread, but somehow he managed it… and he was rewarded for his trouble with a flurry of crisscrossing strikes across his most sensitive and delicate flesh.

As the blows rained down, each new kiss of the leather more painful than the last, Freddie’s magic surged and swirled inside him, the sugarplum stone in his belly radiating it’s own sort of heat; his dust desperate to heal the damage, to make the fiery torment _stop_ \- but he refused to let it.

Because that wasn’t what Ephram needed.

He couldn’t stop the tears that leaked from the corners of his closed eyes though, or the way he shuddered through each breath as he gripped the bedding, biting his lip hard nearly hard enough to break the skin when he felt a sob begin to bubble up.

Sobbing wouldn’t help anything. And it certainly wouldn’t ease his familiar’s panic nearly 5000 miles away.

Freddie could feel the little Chin’s frantic worry, echoes of the fairy’s own pain making Ollie whimper back home in Soapberry, fearing the worst - and Freddie summoned as much wherewithal as he could spare to reach out and assure his friend that he was alright. That it was Ephram, and not Martin, that he was with.

Channeling his frustrated healing magic into keeping Oliver insulated from having to physically share his pain.

Freddie hadn’t been strong enough at 17 to shield Ollie from those three days with Martin, nor had he been prepared enough to protect him from that immolation spell they’d suffered through out in the woods with Ciara and Iann - but this, now, he could hold inside himself where it belonged.

Compartmentalising in ways he hadn’t had to in a very long time.

“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you, darlin'.” The question could have been one of sexual arrogance, taking pride in Ephram’s power over Freddie, but it wasn’t. Ephram’s voice was full of wonder and adoration, an awed rumble of pure laser-focused love. And when Ephram stopped to take in the damage done, pressing close and making Freddie hiss as his witch’s hard cock snugged up between his legs, the fairy opened his wet red-rimmed eyes again to look into his husband’s; the love that he saw there, the awe and devotion in his husband’s voice, immediately acting as a balm.

“Of course I would,” Freddie said, his voice thick and ragged as he struggled to catch his breath and stem his tears. “I always will.”

“My Freddie.” Ephram kissed Freddie’s face, cupping it between his hands and stroking away the wetness of his fairy’s tears, pressing soft kisses to eyes and mouth. “So brave, so bright – who could love you like I do, baby? Ain’t nobody. And there ain’t nobody could love me like you do, Freddie, there ain’t nobody else for me. It’s you who I need. You’re the one got my whole heart, you’ll have it forever. Heart and body and soul.”

In spite of the bright new surge of pain that came with the friction of Ephram’s skin sliding against his own searing flesh, Freddie wrapped his arms around his husband, clutching him closer as Ephram wiped his tears away. His darling praising him and kissing him as softly and gently as the strikes of his belt had been harsh and unsparing.

Ephram murmured all the truths that Freddie most loved to hear aloud. That they were meant to be together; that no-one else could ever love either of them as much or as perfectly as they loved each other. That Ephram _needed_ Freddie, and that the fairy would be the only one to ever hold his heart - and each word that passed his darling’s lips only made Freddie more determined to take whatever Ephram wanted him to. To give the man he loved more than anything else absolutely everything he was and had ever been; to let him leave his fingerprints and teeth-marks on every single part of him, inside and out.

He was still kissing Freddie’s mouth tenderly when he pushed inside, hands still clasped around Freddie’s face as his sweetheart whimpered at the rawness of entry. Ephram could feel the tight strain of Freddie’s body under him, around him, the way Freddie’s nerves must be singing with pain, and God help him it made his cock even harder. 

“Good boy,” Ephram crooned, his hips shoving forward inexorably as he kept an avid watch on Freddie’s expression, the limpid suffering on his darling’s beautiful expressive face. “Take me all in, that’s right, you know how much you love big cock. Especially mine, right, darlin'?” 

The entry wasn’t painless for Ephram, either; once the lubrication provided by spit and precum had smoothed part of the way its slickness soon disappeared, Freddie’s silken cunt grasping and sticking against Ephram’s invading prick. Sweat broke out on Ephram’s skin, rolling down his temples as he grimaced and forced himself onward, plunging all the way into Freddie’s body with a gasp.

Freddie was kissing back in spite of his still clenched muscles and trembling breaths, when the thick blunt head of Ephram’s cock pressed inside him - and he let out a little anguished cry into his sweetheart’s mouth, fingers digging into his witch’s back as the pain of being taken hard and raw built and flared with every inch pushed deeper. But Freddie was Ephram’s good boy, now and forever, and though he winced and mewled, when his husband encouraged him to take it all, reminding him how much he loved a big cock - _Ephram’s_ big cock, most of all - the fairy forced his thighs open wider, breathing ‘Yeah’ and whimpering as Ephram finally bottomed out.

“Oh, God.” The skin of Freddie’s ass and thighs was burning hot, felt like it was scalding against Ephram’s skin, and Ephram reached down to scoop Freddie’s cock and balls into his hand, squeezing gently before wrapping his fingers around Freddie’s shaft and throttling it. “Stay hard for me, sweetheart,” he urged lowly. “Please. I couldn’t stand it if you didn’t get any pleasure out of this, please, please Freddie.” There was desperation in Ephram’s voice, but he didn’t try to hide it. There was nothing he wanted to hide from his husband, nothing that Ephram could be or do that would make Freddie stop loving him.

The thought should have been frightening, or overwhelming. But it wasn’t. It felt completely, entirely right and good and full, because Ephram knew that it was the same the other way around. Not that Freddie would ever come anywhere near the dark, cavernous needs and thoughts that Ephram had, his precious fairy wasn’t like that, but whatever Freddie wanted Ephram knew he would give. 

Letting go of Freddie’s cock, he slid a long finger into his husband, crooking it against that sensitive spot inside him. “Please, baby.”

His still sizzling skin seemed to catch fire all over again as Ephram fucked into him and stilled, his pussy throbbing angrily even as tremors of contradictory arousal began to build low in his belly; the sense of fullness that he loved spurring his poor abused cock back to a glimmer of life, thickening it slightly between his legs. And when Ephram took him in hand, sore though he was, he let out a soft moan at his darling’s pleading, Ephram’s strokes slowly drawing trickles of aching pleasure from the depths of the fairy’s body until the barest bead of dewy precum gathered at the tip of his, now, semi-hard prick.

“You’re inside me, sweetheart,” Freddie rasped, his head thrown back and his throat bared, his voice watery and straining, “That’ll always… _always_ … feel perfect to me. No matter how much it hurts.”

He whined pitifully when Ephram let go of his cock again, nearly completely hard but needing more; needing a counterweight against the savage sting of all his shredded nerves. But when Ephram’s finger pushed inside Freddie’s swollen hole along with his prick, stretching him wider and touching him in just the right place, the fairy let out a keening wail, his whole body shaking.

“Oh god, oh fuck…” he sobbed, surging up to bury his face in Ephram’s neck and shoulder, clutching him harder, pain and pleasure crashing into each other with a frightening amount of force, “Ephram, Ephram please…”

If they’d been at home, surrounded by familiar safeness, Ephram would have taken his time with this. Spread out the blissful torture over hours, take Freddie apart piece by piece, bringing his lover to tears and pleas and then loving him back into sensibility. He’d whip Freddie with a cane, just like those boarding school teachers had done to his beloved fairy. Torment his tempting brown nipples until they were reddened and puffy. Use the cantrip that he’d learned to prolong his own erection, never needing any refractory time, going straight from one orgasmic fuck to the next. Tell Freddie what a sweet, good boy he was and kiss him all over, curl his fingers into Freddie’s collar to hold him still as Ephram skullfucked him.

But all of those things had to remain in the realm of fantasy right now. They didn’t have the luxury of all that, not with Martin Adjaye on the horizon and the Cinquefoil for tonight.

So instead Ephram continued to mercilessly assault Freddie’s prostate, only removing his finger once his husband’s cock was full and hard. “I’m gonna fuck you now,” Ephram said, saying it for the pleasure of hearing it out loud and for the look on Freddie’s face. Anticipation and suffering both, the combination making thick blackened love spread through Ephram’s chest like tar. Sulfurous and sticky, compressing his lungs as he drew back and slammed back into Freddie’s now-yielding cunt, the poor pretty orifice weak and soft and unable to resist. 

Freddie shook like a leaf as Ephram relentlessly fingered his prostate. Moaning loudly, breathlessly, almost keening, as each wave of aching pleasure rushed through him to leave him gasping and lightheaded, his cock as thick and hard as it had ever been, ignored and trapped between them.

He was digging his fingers unconsciously into his witch’s shoulders as he clung to him, a few manicured nails breaking the skin to leave bloody little crescents behind - and when Ephram announced that he was going to fuck him now, _really_ fuck him, his witch’s expression almost rapturous as he relished the word and the moment, the fairy did his best to ready himself; needy now for more of what he’d had when Ephram’s finger had been tormenting him, but still cringing away from the pain. Still frightened of it.

And there was no hiding from just how much this was going to hurt.

He let out a whining cry as Ephram began to move, pounding into him like a demolition hammer; fucking Freddie deep and hard, each thrust feeling as though it were scraping him raw, even as they set off rumbling depth charges of pleasure inside him.

“God, God,” Ephram growled, dipping his head so his forehead was against Freddie’s. “You feel like escape, baby, you feel like the ocean in Greece, you feel like New Year’s in Vienna, you feel like all that and you feel like home. I’m home, inside you, Freddie. Welcome me home, honey.”

With the pace and force of how he was piercing Freddie’s body with no restraint, Ephram soon stopped talking, capable only of harsh, feral panting and groaning. He let his mouth drag over Freddie’s, swallowing some of his husband’s gasps and whimpers, but couldn’t manage anything more. Just that brush of tender contact to keep Freddie safe, to let his darling know that Ephram knew exactly what was happening. What was being given to him.

And how deeply, profoundly he was grateful for it.

“You can cum now, sweetheart,” Ephram choked out, a few seconds before he grabbed the other man’s waist and forced a battery of thrusts into Freddie so deep that his fairy’s shoulders and wings rucked along the damp sheets towards the headboard. And then Ephram was cumming, searing jets of spunk pumping into Freddie’s body further than ever before. The witch gave a cry full of the same contradiction as Freddie’s expressions, fulfilled and anguished as his hips fucked his cum into Freddie higher and higher, oiled cock finally sliding as fast and unimpeded as Ephram was capable of.

Ephram had pushed his legs back so far that every plunge of his darling’s cock dragged against that perfect spot, and Freddie could barely breathe, barely see, couldn’t think - but when Ephram spoke, their foreheads pressed together, gritting out just what Freddie felt like to him, telling the fairy that he was his home, and asking to be welcomed, Freddie felt a swell of love so strong and fierce that all he could do was moan brokenly, words suddenly unreachable. But he canted his hips up, rolling them to meet Ephram’s; taking the pain with all the willingness he had, and all the grace he could still summon as he came apart at the seams.

Welcoming his darling home, now and forever. Promising that Ephram would always have a home to come to.

Soon enough though, words seemed to fail Ephram, too. The witch had set himself a driving animal pace, fucking into Freddie so hard that the fairy could only tremble and whimper, his breathing ragged; anchoring himself with the sweetness of his husband’s mouth on his, the tenderness and strength of that care, knowing that he would always be safe in his witch’s arms. He was exhausted and worn to the bone, but wide open, and still ready to give whatever Ephram needed to take.

Finally though, when Freddie could no longer tell up from down, or pleasure from pain; wrung out and covered in sweat, little mewls and gasps all he could seem to make fall from his lips, his cock throbbing; desperate to cum even as tears once again leaked from the corner of his eyes - Ephram gave his permission, and almost instantly Freddie was sobbing in relief. Shooting an iridescent load of spunk all over his chest, his body doing its best to clench around Ephram’s cock as his sweetheart grabbed him and began to thrust into him so brutally that he pushed Freddie up the bed, the fairy’s wings catching in the linens.

Moaning plaintively, thighs shaking, as he felt his husband cum inside him; the sound Ephram made ringing in his ears, and that beautiful cock filling him up until he felt fit to burst.

For a moment, with the rush and force of orgasm and all the emotional drive amplifying it, Ephram felt as though he’d been struck deaf and blind – like trumpets had sounded, washing away everything but him and Freddie into a searing silver-gold light and holy blare. His body shuddered from head to foot as he buried himself tight inside his beloved husband, feeling every last drop of spend with agonizing acuity, awareness of his surroundings melting back in like molasses.

And Freddie beneath him, thoroughly destroyed, small begging moues of pain and acceptance escaping those ravaged lips. Looking more beautifully giving and submissive than Ephram had ever seen the fairy, the depth of his loving surrender unfathomable and expansive in the wrecked blue of his eyes.

“Oh,” Ephram breathed, sweat and heat and sticky cum fogging his words, “oh, Freddie, my sweet angel boy, my darlin', oh, honey.” He eased out of Freddie’s body, wincing when his husband did at the inevitable pain of being unmounted after such harsh use, and turned onto his back to draw Freddie on top of him, tight in Ephram’s arms. He stroked and petted Freddie’s somewhat crumpled wings back into a semblance of order, turned his attention to Freddie’s soaked-wet hair and the ache etched between his feathery eyebrows, planting tender kisses along the points of his ears to soothe their burning tips.

“You was so brave,” Ephram praised him, sounding faintly stricken now that it was all over and he could assess what he’d done – how much he’d savoured it, each stroke of his belt and his cock and the torment he’d caused his precious fairy – “such a good boy, such a kind, loving boy, oh, my poor kitten.”

He pressed his mouth to Freddie’s temple, breathing in the scent of his husband even as Freddie’s little hitching breaths and moans of discomfort patterned the close air between them. “I love you,” Ephram told him, smearing the words against Freddie’s skin as though they’d be absorbed that way. “For allowing me this. For trusting me. For being everything you are, Freddie, my Freddie. Tell me you’re okay, tell me what you need. I’ll give you anything. I’ll give you it all.”

Freddie sucked a sharp breath in through his teeth as Ephram carefully pulled out - and he grimaced at the pain; everything about him feeling as wet and ragged as his breathing, despite the soft sweet murmurs of love and praise raining from his husband’s lips. And when Ephram settled on his back, gathering Freddie close and holding him protectively, the fairy let out a gasping moan as the blankets rubbed against his skin, still so hot and tender; angry red welts crisscrossing his thighs, his arse, all of his most vulnerable delicate flesh.

And that was _nothing_ compared to the raw searing throb of his cunt.

He wasn’t crying exactly - but he couldn’t seem to get his shuddery breathing under control; couldn’t get far enough outside the ache to hold back the whines and whimpers that his body demanded, his dust racing through his blood like mercury, all but pleading to be allowed to help. But still Freddie ignored it, clinging tighter to Ephram, focusing on the gentleness of his husband’s hands as he helped the fairy to fold his wings up again; on the warmth of Ephram’s mouth as he kissed Freddie’s ears and whispered against his temple.

Drinking in the sound of that beloved voice, and wrapping himself up in each devoted word.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said, though his voice was frayed and weak- sounding, “ _So_ much.” Freddie shivered slightly, shifting just a bit closer and wincing again. “And I’m okay. Really. Just… keep doing this, love.”

The fairy hid his face against his husband’s chest. “Just hold me and make me feel safe,” he mumbled softly, “…you’re the only one who knows how.”

“You’re safe, baby,” Ephram murmured. “Safer than you ever been, as safe as you ever will be.” He kissed Freddie’s fevered head, smoothing his hair and ruffling it then smoothing it again, compulsively. “Let yourself heal, now, go on. You gave me what I needed, my beautiful darling, now give yourself what you need, please. Sweetheart.” Ephram took a long breath, reluctantly moving along to what was to be their next ordeal: “…you gonna need your strength for what we got comin’.”

Not Adjaye, not just yet. But this was no less a dealing with the devil.

Ephram did exactly as Freddie had asked - holding him tightly, kissing and petting him as he promised that his arms would always keep the fairy safe, that together they would always be alright - before encouraging him to give in to his body’s demands to heal itself; a permission that brought a soft gasp of relief to the fairy’s lips as he immediately stopped fighting his own magic and his dust swept into action. 

First soothing his savaged gaping hole - leaving it slick and dripping spunk, but once again pink and tight - and then taking care of each lash of the belt, one by one. The thick red stripes sinking away until only unblemished golden skin remained; every stinging ache swept away in just a few moments time.

Though the fear of what was coming next, of what Freddie would need his strength for, couldn’t be so easily wiped away.

And if he clung to his husband just a bit harder _after_ all of his pain had ebbed away, well… he refused to be ashamed of that.

Reaching over to the nightstand, Ephram picked up the yellow enameled flower pin, holding it up for them both to see. Its metal edges caught the dim light of the room as he turned it over and over in his long fingers, pressing the points of the petals against the pads of his fingertips. “I need your help for it,” Ephram explained, his other hand bunching and caressing Freddie’s folded wings. “You got the other part of the demon seal right there on your hand – if we’s gonna set this Cinquefoil into me, into the brand already here on my hip, I’m gonna need you to make it take.”

Shifting in the bed, Ephram sat up a little more against the headboard, keeping Freddie close to him. “I’ll be fine,” he said contemplatively, closing his palm over the flower. “I been thinkin’ on this real hard. Fortifying myself. Soaking up all your support and love, honey, all that incredible confidence you got in me, and this is gonna work. I never been more sure of anything.” Ephram nosed against Freddie’s face. “Other’n how much I love you.” 

Freddie eyed the innocuous-looking little flower as Ephram turned it this way and that, gentled and calmed by his husband’s gentle hand on his wings; and the fairy took a deep breath, nodding, though his head still rested on Ephram’s chest. “Whatever you need me to do, love,” he said quietly, “Everything I’ve got - everything I _am_ \- is always yours.” Sitting up a bit as his witch shifted to put his back against the headboard, Freddie tucked himself against Ephram’s side - pressing close, because _not_ touching him simply wasn’t an option - and slowly unwrapped the warded linen from his hand, setting it aside on the nightstand, and exposing the brand on his palm, faint gleams of silver visible through the scar tissue.

He was frightened - only a fool wouldn’t be frightened of what they were about to take on - but as Ephram spoke, reassuring him that he was going to be fine; his voice steady as he told Freddie that he knew that this was going to work; that only one other time in his life had he ever been so certain of something, nuzzling at the fairy’s face; Freddie knew that what he said was true, and he nuzzled back. Tilting his head to capture his darling’s lips, kissing him soft and slow, over and over, and then deepening it - remembering the kiss they’d shared at the altar of Ephram’s church on their wedding day; remembering the hundred thousand kisses that had come before it, all of which had meant just as much - before pulling back again.

“You’re right, sweetheart,” he murmured, “-this _is_ going to work. You’re going to _make_ it work, and I’m going to help you.”

Freddie raised his unbranded hand to his witch’s cheek, and looked into his husband’s eyes. “I love you, Ephram,” he said, “Where you go, I go.”

“Tell me what we have to do.”

“Atta boy.” Ephram said with deep satisfaction and admiration at his husband’s fortitude, grateful too for Freddie’s clearly-stated belief in him. It wasn’t as if areas didn't exist in which Ephram held confidence in himself, but … Anaxis had never been one of those areas. It was hard to feel as though he had any control over the demon no matter what he tried, the best outcome seemingly being only short reprieves between Anaxis’ ascendancy. And the inevitable excruciating fascination that people who were supposed to love him had for Anaxis, how they welcomed the demon's presence, how they let it sway their minds and actions, how Ephram was always left the worse for it.

Except for Freddie.

Freddie had never found the demon convincing, or appealing, or seductive. He’d always afforded Anaxis the respectful hate that told Ephram that he was more important than it was, that Ephram was Freddie's chief -- if not sole -- concern. That in itself had done wonders in firming up the ground of Ephram’s sureness when it came to Anaxis.

“All you gotta do,” Ephram said simply, his eyes fixed on Freddie’s, “is hold on to me. Hold on to us, honey. That’s what’s gonna get us through.” 

“Believe me, love,” Freddie said, holding Ephram’s gaze, “-letting you go isn’t something I _ever_ intend to do.” Ephram nodded, a faint bob of the head before he kissed Freddie, their eyelashes brushing. “See you on the other side,” the witch murmured, his gaze lingering, a little desperate at the edges. 

The fairy returned his husband’s kiss, keeping him close as he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was coming, “-you will _absolutely_ see me on the other side.” Love and admiration shone in his eyes, and Freddie gave his darling the best smile he was capable of in the moment. “So no lollygagging. You get back to me sharpish, yeah?”

With that, Ephram adjusted the Cinquefoil in his fingers, the yellow enamel of it sparking silver-green in the buildup of his – of their – magic. Breathing evenly, he set the little flower yellow-up against the seared-in mark of his demon brand and, planting his thumb in the middle, pushed.

The metal, cast apple-green in the magic light, seemed as if it would resist for a moment. But just a moment. With a final jump of pressure, Ephram clenched his jaw as he pressed the Cinquefoil into his skin and it bit through, making a faint popping and then hissing sound as his flesh gave way. Freddie watched, his heart in his throat, as Ephram pressed the Cinquefoil - gleaming and radiant now in the flux of their merged magic - to the brand on his hip, and Freddie couldn’t help the soft noise of concern that escaped him when his darling’s flesh conceded the battle and the little metal flower began to sink into his body, the sound alone making him cringe. 

“Now, Freddie,” Ephram said, voice tight as he lifted his hip for the fairy to seal his palm over the flower. “Put your hand there and hold on. It’s gonna want to tell you something and you gotta stick strong through it. I know you will. I’m still here.” It was horrific - but oddly beautiful, too, once the metal was a part of him - and Freddie couldn’t look away; acting immediately when Ephram told him that now was the time, and laying his scarred hand over his husband’s hip, over the brand they shared, sealing them. The Cinquefoil hot and almost pulsing against his skin as he did as he’d been told and held on. With his hand. And his heart. And with every ounce of power he possessed.

The magic of the seal was strange and uncomfortable; waxing and waning, and seeming to have a tidal effect on Freddie’s blood and his magic, emanating from where the sugarplum stone sat fixed in his belly. But when Ephram said that the demon had something to tell him, promising that he was still there, and telling Freddie to be strong, the fairy nodded, murmuring, “I’m alright, sweetheart. Whatever it has to say, I’ll be alright,” taking Ephram’s hand and threading their fingers together, squeezing tightly, as his husband’s blue eyes were lost to the demon’s sickly white.

Clenching his jaw, the fairy waited for whatever bilious mockery the demon was so hungry to share; and he found himself more than a little surprised that it seemed to be having trouble speaking. That surprise increasing tenfold when it finally did, and its usual smugness, the greasy malevolence its voice exuded, was decidedly lacking. 

“You can’t let Adjaye catch you off-guard,” the demon said, while Ephram’s eyes slid back to their usual ocean-blue, familiar and intense. “And he will. Unless you remember Cabin 17, Freddie. The Reeperbahn. Remember what happened to you there.”

This unusual forthrightness, Freddie hoped, was evidence of the Cinquefoil exerting its power… But with a demon, one could never be sure. _Trust_ was never a part of the equation.

(That Anaxis apparently wanted to talk to him about _Martin_ only served to underline that very salient point.)

Not that it was actually making much in the way of sense. Freddie hadn’t the first bloody idea about a Cabin 17 on the Reeperbahn - and he said so. “First off,” he replied, his voice cool, though he was relieved to see that Ephram’s eyes were his own again. He raised his husband’s hand to drop a quick kiss on his knuckles, knowing that Ephram was still present and could feel him, even as he carried on speaking to Anaxis, “-if you think for one moment that I’m daft enough to believe that you’re capable of concern - particularly concern for _me_ \- clearly that flower’s already knocked 10 bells out of you. And secondly, the Reeperbahn isn’t something I’m likely to forget, now is it? I remember Erotixx _vividly_ , mate - but twenty-plus years on, red-lit cocks all start to blend together a bit, yeah? I never gave a toss about the cabin number.”

The fairy narrowed his eyes at the demon. “And all that was _long_ before Martin knew me anyway - so whatever this rubbish is in aid of, it’s a _far_ cry from your usual standard.”

Ephram’s lips pressed tight in frustrated pique, Anaxis making a hiss of malcontent before the witch’s broad brow smoothed out and he shut his eyes briefly. “Of course,” Anaxis said with an annoyed sigh. “You don’t have that memory anymore. You showed it to Ephram and you put it in the Trapper, never to make an appearance in your consciousness again.” Anaxis raised its eyebrows, sounding more or less cheerful when it said, “Well, guess it’s field trip time, Freddie!”

Before Freddie could so much as open his mouth to protest whatever horror Anaxis’ notion of a ‘field trip’ might be, its hand clenched tighter onto Freddie’s and with it came a subway train of emotion so blunt that it was almost nauseous, hitting both of them hard enough to knock their breath flat for a moment; reeling, and knocked for six; the fairy struggling not to sick up all over his feet as his eyes adjusted to the garish red light they were bathed in. And when they were able to think again, to focus on their surroundings, they were standing under that red light Freddie had mentioned, in front of a cabin door at Erotixx. Number 17. The sounds around them were thick and obscene despite being muffled through the walls and doors, the smell of the place just as heavy and oppressive.

Already on the verge of tears for some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, Freddie felt frightened and vulnerable, his anxious pulse thumping in his ears - but he would have been able to identify where they were by scent alone if he’d had to. He’d been in and out of Erotixx more times than he could count when he’d worked the Reeperbahn - often multiple times a night - and while he didn’t _know_ what had happened in Cabin 17, the memory having been neatly excised by the Trapper, he could guess, and the last thing he wanted to do was go into that room.

What he wanted more than anything was _Ephram_. A tangible sign of his husband’s presence; of his love. But unfortunately, at the moment, only the faintest suggestions of his darling were visible beside him. Anaxis’ corruption was entirely front and centre.

“For the record,” Anaxis said – and it _was_ Anaxis, the demon’s form in this twice-removed memory bearing only the proportions of Ephram’s body but being filled in with staticky lightning bolts of white shot through with sticky grey, eyesockets bright-burning gaseous holes – “I’m not concerned for you. I’m invested in Adjaye not getting the upper hand. And Ephram, well .. Ephram doesn’t have the clear-sighted hardness capable of making sure you have this memory back. But I do. And you’ll be glad for it, Freddie, as unlikely as it seems at this moment." 

“What does it matter to you if Martin gets the upper hand?” Freddie asked, fighting the tremor in his voice brought on by the miasma of emotion he couldn’t control, and didn’t yet fully understand, “I’d have thought you’d _want_ me brought-”

"Let's not get concerned with whatever it is you thought, hmm?" Anaxis would normally banter for a while, tease Freddie, but it seemed focused on what they were about to do, the static of its form blaring loud for a moment before dampening again. "Now, stiff upper lip, old fruit.”

Then they were on the other side of that door, and they weren’t alone. There was a man there with cocaine-wild eyes and eager fists. And there was a very, very young incarnation of Freddie, blood dark black against his skin under the red light, and whatever else Freddie had intended to say was driven from his mind by the sight.

“Ephram would have preferred if I just told you what happened here,” Anaxis said blandly, folding its flickering hands in front of itself. Its burning gaze tracked what was happening to the teenager before them, making no reaction to the brutal assault. “ _I_ thought this might make a more indelible and immediate impact.” Anaxis made a small _ttch_ sound, muttering, “It would be better if you could have back the memories you gave that ninny Ruby and that odious Elizabeth as well, but quel dommage. We’ll have to make do with only Ephram’s.”

The demon continued to speak about impact and memories, but it meant nothing to Freddie now. Being confronted with the visceral reality of the memory he’d given up, the systemic shock of having to bear witness to an emotional agony he’d been unprepared for, and the magical trauma of having the Trapper’s work undone in one harsh blow, sent him careening psychically into the past.

Which meant that he could feel everything he was looking at as it happened; his adult self regaining the memory by experiencing it in tandem with his teenage version.

Every blow, every vicious thrust, every ugly word, and angry cruelty, happening over again - effectively, for the very first time.

And the fairy, blood dripping now from the freshly split and swollen lip which had appeared when his younger self’s had, and from the cuts inside his mouth - horrible bruises blooming on his neck as dark droplets slid down his legs - stood stock still, barely able to breathe and crying silently, adrift in the agony of being utterly and completely disposable.

“Steady,” Freddie’s companion said, and with that one word it was clear that Ephram had taken the wheel again. He grasped Freddie’s hand, squeezing it and murmuring in a low, strong voice, “I’m right here, baby, I’m with you. This was all in the past. You got through it and you kept going, my brave, wonderful darling, you’re worth so much more than the way this fuckin' bastard treated you.”

Ephram smoothed his other hand over Freddie’s feverish forehead, down to cover his beloved’s eyes. “You don’t need to watch no more,” he said, anger starting to colour his tone. “It was cruel of the demon to make you see it and feel it again. You come on back, now, come be safe in my arms.”

Ephram’s voice was faint at first. Distant, as though he were calling to Freddie from the opposite end of a long tunnel; only _just_ able to be heard over noise of the fairy’s blood rushing in his ears and the sickening sounds of the brutal assault. 

Over the sounds of his own pain.

But slowly his darling began to cut through the fog of the near-catatonic anguish that Freddie was trapped in; held temporarily captive by physical pain, emotional shellshock, and magical disturbance - and by the time Ephram had covered Freddie’s eyes and gathered him close, the fairy had once again summoned the wherewithal to reach back for him, clinging to his husband’s arm as though it were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Which, effectively, it was.

The snap back to the present though was as nauseating as ever, but Freddie had been spared the dizzying swim of vision thanks to the large protective hand over his eyes, and in the moments immediately following their lurching return to reality, he focused first on getting himself under control. On breathing slowly and stopping himself from shaking in Ephram’s arms as they lay on the bed. On repeating, over and over in his own mind, what Ephram had murmured into his ear in that room - it was in the _past_. Freddie had gotten through it before, and he would get through it now. He was no longer that desperate devastated boy - and if _that boy_ could pick himself up and get on with things, then the man that he was now most certainly could.

It was in _the past_. No matter what it felt like, right now, in this moment.

“I’m sorry you had to get that memory back that way,” Ephram said, impassioned and worried as his dark blue eyes scanned Freddie's face. “But Anaxis was right. You needed to know, on account that Adjaye knows. And if he was able to force you to relive that in front of him, it would’ve cut you off at the knees, honey. But we – you and me – we need you strong. I know you’ll be strong, but it was important to take this card back out of Adjaye’s hand.”

The manifested blood and physical pain of violation had been left behind in his memory, and as Ephram spoke, holding him and petting him, telling him that as ugly and horrific as that exercise had been, the result had been a necessary evil, Freddie knew that his darling was right, and with one last push of will, he forced his body to obey him again. His chest stopped heaving as he slowed his breathing methodically, his shakes becoming only slight tremors as he opened his eyes when he felt Ephram pull slightly back to check on him. “I- I know, love,” he stuttered weakly at first; his jaw clenching in frustration at himself. And then he took another deep breath, let it out slowly, and sat up a bit - bringing Ephram with him, not wanting to leave the comforting safety of his husband’s embrace just yet. 

“I’ll be alright,” he said quiety, “I’m stronger than I look at the moment, I promise."

“You’re stronger than anybody gives you credit for, kitten,” Ephram said emphatically, eyes alight with pride and admiration. “That you and Ollie was all alone in the world and you made it through fuckin’ hell and horror to be the man you are now, it’s such an inspiration to me. And don’t you ever think otherwise.” He kissed Freddie, the press of his lips firm but mindful of what Freddie had just endured – _again_. 

Ephram’s kiss, careful but resolute, the gentle touch of his big calloused hands, and each murmured word of encouragement, of pride and love and understanding, acted as a balm for both Freddie’s soul and his psyche, and he accepted each one gratefully; each passing moment just a little bit easier, a little bit better, than the one before, simply because his husband was with him. "I think my mind just… needs to heal around the memory, yeah? To reintegrate what happened back into my knowledge of my past, and… I don’t know… scab over again, or something. Right now I’m just a bit seasick because it feels both like it _just_ happened, _and_ like an old memory - which I assume is the rucked up magic. Once it settles again I’ll be alright.” 

“That sounds bout right,” Ephram said, nodding at his fairy’s working out of what his mind and body were trying to reconcile. “It ain’t natural, having the past overlap on the present like that. We got some time afore I put the demon to work locating Adjaye, and Stellafa and her cronies. You can catch your breath.” He held Freddie as he felt his husband’s shaking start to slow; not quelling entirely, but becoming something more manageable. 

Petting Freddie’s hair, Ephram leaned back a little to find his husband’s gaze, wanting to make sure the shock of that memory had cleared enough for Freddie to absorb what he was saying. “I’m in control, Freddie. Anaxis can’t come to the fore unless I allow it, and even then I can shove it back down if I so want.” He paused, hand stilling at the back of Freddie’s head. “So it'll never be in full control, not ever again. I’ll _always_ be here. With you.”

Somehow the smell of the trick’s breath and body, the taste of him, still lingered in Freddie’s mouth and nose, and he wanted a bath desperately. It almost made Freddie want to cry again. But he didn’t. He just drank it all in slowly, holding tight to his man, Oliver a faint warm presence in the back of his mind; his familiar thankful that _this time_ there had been someone there to catch his fairy when he fell. The little Chin did his best to hold on, sending his love to both of them, but all too soon he faded off again - that sort of clarity of connection simply too much to maintain on his own, Freddie was still too jangled, too overwrought, to be of much use.

That Ephram had cowed the demon though - that was enough to sharpen the fairy’s focus, his hand coming up to touch his husband’s face, to stroke his cheek. “It’s done then?” he asked softly, his bruised blue eyes gazing into Ephram’s own, full of hope and relief and laser-bright love. “You’ve got complete control? How do you feel, sweetheart? Tell me what happened.”

Ephram smiled broadly when Freddie asked about Anaxis and Ephram’s ascendancy over it, saying with a vicious satisfaction tinging his voice, “The Cinquefoil pulled Anaxis up to the fore, and the brand let me … bond to it without givin’ up any of my own control. So long as I got the willpower to hang on to the reins, Anaxis can’t suck up as much of my magic as it’s used to.” 

“Oh, sweetheart…” Freddie breathed, the happy tears that had only threatened before shining in his eyes when he lifted his head again, “Ephram, that’s…” Freddie took his husband’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, “…that’s the most wonderful thing you’ve ever said to me, love. That’s just… I’m so proud of you, Ephram.”

Ephram stroked the back of Freddie’s head as his husband pressed close, saying, “I don’t know the full extent yet, but I feel so much _lighter_ , Freddie.”

“We promised each other in New York, didn’t we? That we’d make each other’s loads lighter…” Freddie tilted his face up to kiss his husband’s lips. “You’ve carried so much for so long, baby…” The fairy’s voice broke a bit and he huffed out a wet joyful sort of sound, beaming at his witch, hands still cradling Ephram’s handsome face, “…but lightness - _peace_ \- is what you were made for.”

Ephram pressed back instantly, pushing against Freddie like a big uncoordinated hound, hungrier than he’d realized for his husband’s bolstering affection. “You’s the one helped me get here,” he mumbled roughly, wanting Freddie to know how instrumental he’d been in clearing through the muck of self-recrimination and lack of self-worth that Ephram had always carried around with him, twin millstones around his neck. “I wouldn’t of never been able to shore up my strength enough to do this if I didn’t know you were here believing in me every goddamn step of the way, Freddie. You eased my burden more’n I can ever tell you how much.”

Like this, like how Freddie was telling Ephram he’d been made not for depredation and sin, but for peace. Light. Beautiful things that Ephram had slowly lost hope for, once the boy he’d been was claimed by the demon, ridden by it, broken down at its every eagerly taken opportunity. He’d painstakingly, steadfastly built himself back up every time, each long haul leaving him more exhausted with life – a private war, like Freddie said. Turning arms against himself when he couldn’t find any other recourse. 

Ephram paused for a moment, and when he resumed talking, there was a hint of shameful confusion as he sorted it out aloud. “I feel sort of empty. I been livin’ so long with Anaxis buzzing inside me, inside my brain and my guts and always biting and clawing at me, and now it’s like … the whole of me is my white place. It's all quiet. It's all safe.” He pushed his nose against Freddie’s hair, inhaling the scent of his husband until his senses were sweetly fogged with it. “It … I got the demon cooped up, and it can’t do nothin’ I won’t let it do. Freddie. _Freddie_.”

His voice gave out there. Ephram shut his eyes, tears of relief streaming down to dampen Freddie’s hair a soft, deep brown.

Freddie wiped gently at Ephram’s tears, biting back his own, wanting to hold it together for his husband in this moment. “I know it must feel strange… I mean, how could it not? You’ve laid down your sword and shield for the first time since you were fourteen, Ephram. _Fourteen_. You’ve been fighting a private war for your entire adult life, love; the silence probably feels deafening right now…” Freddie smoothed his husband’s hair back. “But I’m here,” he said, “For anything you need, sweetheart. I’m so _incredibly_ proud of you.”

He drew Ephram down into his arms, holding him close. “You did it, love,” he murmured, “It can’t hurt you anymore.”

Ephram let Freddie pet him and draw him near, taking solace in the feel of that familiar, beloved body. “It’s like … I don’t hardly know what to do with myself, with this big echo inside me now. All that pain I lived with and got accustomed to, just … gone. Nothin’ but _me_ through and through, apart from that tiny space where I got the demon webbed in. Only me.”

And who would that be, was the question Ephram didn’t dare voice. Without the demon that had grafted itself to him body and psyche and soul since he was a child, who was Ephram really? He never thought he’d have the chance to find out, but now, here it was.

The fairy fell quiet as Ephram began to speak - attempting to articulate what he was feeling, to share it with Freddie - not wanting to interrupt or derail his darling’s train of thought; wanting him to get it out in his own way, at his own pace, feeling safe and warm and loved beyond measure. So he simply listened, holding Ephram tightly, and stroking his hair and his back, until his husband paused again. “I imagine it will be strange for a while,” Freddie said softly, “-but ‘only you’ is a wonderful thing, sweetheart. You deserve the chance to come out into the sunshine, yeah? Freedom and fresh air and the opportunity to stretch out after a long time confined…” Freddie pressed his lips to the damp gold of Ephram’s hair, “Your life is _yours_ , love - and I can’t wait to see you live it without suffering quietly, _constantly_ , at the same time.”

When his witch spoke again however, it was to sit up a bit to return to the practicalities of their purpose in London. “We got work to do,” Ephram said slowly, articulating the rational side of things, “so I can’t waste time ruminating on shit too much, but Freddie –” Ephram sprawled one big hand over Freddie’s midsection, fingertips digging in lightly, “–honey, I’m gonna need you like hell when this is all over. To help me sort out the man I am without Anaxis ridin’ shotgun.”

Freddie opened his mouth to protest that discussing this - this momentous enormous incredible thing - was in _no way_ a waste of time; but before he could, his husband was pressing his hand to Freddie’s stomach, telling him how much he would need him in the time to come; to help him find himself again after so long spent shackled to the demon, subject to its whispers and screeches; and Freddie swallowed the words still sitting on his tongue, proud of Ephram for asking for what he needed. Knowing how hard it was for him to do it.

“You have me, sweetheart,” Freddie promised, covering Ephram’s hand with one of his own, and reaching up to gently stroke his darling’s cheek with the other, petting him softly with his knuckles. “For anything and everything, yeah?” 

“I _want_ you to lean on me, love,” he murmured, “As often as you need to. You’re my husband, Ephram, and there’s nowhere else I ever want to be other than directly beside you.”

In a way, it was startling to hear Freddie say that – that Ephram had endured ongoing, constant suffering – because it was a state of being that Ephram had kept very silent about, as much as he could. He’d never wanted people to look at him and think of that right away; the pity (or indifference) would have been too much to bear. But Freddie, of course, knew the depth of what Ephram had lived with. Knew it and didn’t make it a big deal, but never forgot, either. It was as keen a validation of Ephram’s struggle against Anaxis as the witch had ever received.

Which was why he felt stable enough to return to the matter at hand, especially with Freddie petting and loving on him and promising his support whenever it was needed. Ephram caught Freddie’s hand, pressing an impassioned kiss to those knuckles, and then scooted them both down on the bed. “We should sleep,” he murmured, feeling the tiredness set in now that their emotional adrenaline was seeping out. “I’ll have us up early so’s we can get to work. Ain’t nothin’ to be done in the dark.” 

Not for them, anyhow. Not anymore.


End file.
